


The Unwanted Animal | Dreambur

by Lypophre



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Demon possesion, Dreamon, Enemies to Lovers, Gay, Gore, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kinda, Multi, Nothing serious, War, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, just some demon possesion, moraly gray character, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:20:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29677599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lypophre/pseuds/Lypophre
Summary: Dream didn't ask to be chosen by them, but you can't really say no to an ancient demon that is tied to the whole universe._______The Unwanted Animal - The Amazing Devil
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> this book is for writing practise and fun, trigger warning

Crimson red blood dripped from his fingers, the smell of iron filled his nostrils the moment he zoned back into reality. he looked down at the blood-covered cement, knowing what happened the minute he did so. he sighed, looking at the well before walking over to it and soaking his hands into the foggy water. The blood on his hands dyed the water red, he shook his hands to try them off minimally, the water droplets trailed down the blood-covered walls of Pollow's Village. Dream rolled his shoulders, looking back at the dead bodies that decorated the streets. 

_Kriston is still inside, can't you hear his heartbeat? You should be able to. I can._

Dream looked at the largest house, located on the other side of the unimportant village. The place would probably become a ghost town soon enough, he would have to dispose of the bodies. That could wait, however. Kriston didn't listen to the simple rules he gave him and it was time for him to pay for that. Despite having to have to fight a war at the moment, he was still the physical form of the dreamon, and he didn't like it when the ancient being giving him headaches and body cramps for not doing his responsibilities correctly.

The demon had made its way into his mind and body, Daimone was strict with their rules. Sure, they gave the societies time to adjust to them whenever they changed but once they decided it was taking too long it was Dream's job to get rid of the misbehaving societies. Drem never really asked to be a vessel of sorts for this thing, he just woke up one day in agonizing pain and a new voice in his head. 

He took the large ax from the ground, swinging it around to get some of the blood off. There was no reason to clean it properly if he would get it dirty again. He doubted he used the weapon for more than three people, he didn't remember letting Daimone take control of the body so the other probably took control by force. Kristen was actually an old follower of theirs so they were most likely furious that he broke the sacred rules.

He focused on his hearing, the faint beating of a heart didn't come from the lord's house, but the library. 

_Drop the ax, Clay. It won't help with him, both you and I know that._

he grumbled, dropping the weapon. There was no arguing with them if he didn't want a headache. His senses were coming back, the first ones to come were his sense of smell. It came back strong, overwhelming him with the all too familiar scent of iron.

The next was his vision. The first thing he saw when he regained material vision was a well covered in blood, a dead man laid next to it. Then he saw the bloody walls, the village streets were covered in blood and flesh, fresh corpses that were pale from the blood loss were scattered across the ground, some probably still in their homes. Daimone was really mad, he usually liked to toy with his victims before killing them. Dream actually adopted the trait. Next was his hearing, the first thing he heard when it came back was the drum-like beating of Kriston's heart. the beating was the first thing he heard, he knew that Daimon wanted it to be the first thing he heard. He wanted for him to torture Kriston, wanted for his screams of agony to draw out for s long as possible. Even if he wanted him to die, he liked seeing the ones who wronged him suffering. Dream could always take the man, chain him up and torture him for months. Both of them liked hearing others on the brink of death, begging for their lives. They would heal them, listen to their pathetic "thank yous" before he repeated the life edging process.

He took a dagger from a holder in his belt, it was an old thing he repaired a hundred times because he kept forgetting to actually mend it. He probably never will, it was really just used for scaring others. He should actually get rid of it at some point, it was just taking up space. Yeah, he would probably let it break sooner or later. And for now, he would do what he usually did. Drem pressed the metal blade against the glass window, focusing on Kriston's heartbeat. 

"Kriston, I know you're here~" he looked around, letting his vision of the material plane fade out. He listened to the heartbeat hit against the walls, the vibrations telling him where objects were. He stopped walking when he saw a pale blue fire, Dream grinned to himself before fading his vision back to the material plane. He knew he would have a headache for the next few hours, but it was alright. The hunt would be worth the pain. 

"You don't believe me, do you? that's okay. I guess I have to tell you where you are then, huh?" he nodded his head in agreement, even if Kriston probably wasn't able to see it. "Alright, then. You're behind a bookshelf, it has maybe... let's say thirty-seven books. Sorry about your wife,"

_She screamed like a banshee_

"she was really loud, you know? I would have gone with Sabrina, she was a lot nicer than Molly. That doesn't matter now though, does it? They're both dead. And I'm the one who killed them. Just like I'm going to kill you too. Are you having fun there? oh, and did you chug a potion of invisibility? Your soul was brown last time I checked." he heard a muffled sob and a book falling. "even someone who can only see the material plane would be able to find you now, you should really be more careful."

Dream pressed his finger against one of the book spines and pushed it, it hit against a metal plate of chest armor. "Oh come on now, you know that armor doesn't go invisible." he did his best to tune out the agonizing pain that was his skin remolding itself, the tips of his fingers became darker and darker as they grew into claw-like nails. He watched as the thin metal stayed still for a moment before trying to make a run for it. 

The potion effects faded and Kriston slowly appeared back to the material plane. Dream took the other by the arm, sinking his long claws in his skin. He was pretty sure he saw some of his claws poking out of his flesh. The man let out a scream, his eyes flew to his bleeding arm. Dream squeezed his grip, grinning when get saw his index finger poking out of the arm, blood dripping from the black nail. Fat tears slid down Kriston's face, his voice almost gone from screaming so loudly. 

"You shouldn't have broken the sacred rules, Kriston. You knew better than anyone else. Have fun in Daione's palette." 

_Make it hurt._

"I always do." The masked man grinned wide, sinking his claws into the thin metal, tearing his way towards Kriston's ribcage and grasping a bone, squeezing it until he felt it getting crushed under his grasp. The black-haired man was visibly dizzy, his eye rolled back. "Can't have my fun today, sadly I have a war to go back to. Tell Molly I said hi, if you see her that is." and with that, he took the organ with berly and beat to it and ripped it out.

"You want to keep this one or just let it rot?"

_He doesn't deserve me keeping his heart, I would have thought about it if he didn't break the golden rule._

"Whatever you say, Daione.", and so he crushed the heart, letting the blood splatter all across him.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> looking into the spiritual plane when Daimone isn't in control has consequences, and they are not fun to live with for multiple hours of the day. Or in other words, Dream has to deal with a headache and an annoying war with a Brit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, hi, trigger warning   
> have fun

Dream grasped the corpse's arms, dragging it to the pile with the others. The clothes he was wearing were covered in blood, soaked in the liquid, and dripped it. his mask had droplets and dried crisps. Some of it had almost hot into his eyes. The silent pounding in the back of his head made itself known, reminding him about looking into the spiritual plane without the help of Daimon. He forgot to take his medicine due to being in a hurry to get the disposing of this village's population over with, he regretted it. 

His muscles ached, the feeling of land getting destroyed, trees getting cut down and the odd sensation of newborn animals walking for the first time. Daimone had told him that it would hurt, warned him to just take the medicine because their day would be fucked otherwise. 

_This is why you listen to me, I know better than you. Now we are both in pain because of your stupidity._

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll take my medicine later. I have the whole day, we will be fine. It's just some...cramps."

_You better take it, I've had to deal with this pain for millennia before the medicine was made, I'd rather not have to feel it more because my stupid vessel decided to be stupid that day._

Dream rolled his eyes. He knew he should have taken the medicine, but his pride was too hard to get past and apologize properly to the one he would be forced to live with for millions of years to come because he was "the first good one in ages". Aberrantly Daione had bad vessels who just did as they pleased. Dream did that too but somehow...the right way? It was confusing and a talk for another time. "so, you have any ideas on how to win the stupid war?"

_You can always kill them, you know._

"now that's just...no." Even if he hated the people of L'manburg he didn't want to kill them. He still cared for some as he would for friends. But they wanted something he wasn't allowed to give them, despite telling them "no" they still wanted it. And now they were at war. Dream loved chaos, he loved seeing others suffer and he knew all was fair at love and war, but just killing them brutally or letting Daione tear their bodies apart like paper, letting nature reclaim what was rightfully hers seemed wrong, even to him.

He cared, he cared too much. He just wanted everyone to be happy, but not like this. Letting them win would be equal to letting someone cut off one of his limbs. He felt everything going on in the universe they were in, he would feel it until he died. And when he died he would just become a wondering soul, forced to look at the land he was once a part of. Maybe Lady Nature would grow a tree in his honor as she did for the past few. Maybe he would be able to help the next vessel, tell them how to make sure Daione wouldn't give them headaches and what he liked and the things that helped with the pain. Maybe he would be incarnated. Or, artinitevly, maybe Daione didn't like him and would let him rot in the palette, maybe he would go to torturous and get tortured. And maybe he would turn to stardust, into nothingness.

He threw the lifeless corpse onto the pile, shaking his hands in a pathetic wish to rid of the blood soaking it. Cleaning up the bodies was always a pain in the ass. He reached into his back pocket, taking the box of matches out and crushing it in his hands. It was dripping in blood, it was useless. "dude what the fuck? were you rolling in blood?"

_No, I wasn't. just go get some flint and steel, a bunch of sticks and you're fine._

Dream grumbled under his breath, throwing the box at the bodies. He cracked his knuckles, trying to distract himself from the feeling of creepers blowing up. He didn't have flint and steel on him, he just took his weapons this morning and a few potions of healing and went off to finish his task. he knew he should have prepared better, Daione did tend to be messy when he was killing. Sometimes he felt like he was taking care of a child, but then remembered that Daione was billions of years old and that he was like that because he had no childhood. Demons usually didn't, like other half-celestial beings, they were born with a purpose and that purpose didn't give them a break. The ruffling of leaves and birds chirping was calming, it helped distract him from the feeling of forest fires. 

_Dream I want control again._

"what the hell, why now?" he didn't receive an answer, instead he got a sharp pain in his side, the feeling of horses galloping in groups trailed up his spine, the feeling of insanity sinking in filled his bones, chilling him like a blizzard. It burned like the fire of neather, the feeling of someone clawing at his brain, desperately trying to take control of his physical body and do who knows what. Dream felt blood starting to drip from his nose, and then he heard a stick snapping in the distance. He looked up, his hand still hovering where his nose would be from behind the wooden mask. Like nothing ever happened, Daione let him keep control of the psyche.

His attention was focused o the human heartbeat. He looked at the distance, focusing on the heartbeat and the heartbeat alone. he reached under his mask, wiping the blood off. He sighed, cursing under his breath before he walked over to the heartbeat. It was somewhat calm as if half-sleep. But then it thumped faster as if they knew or saw him. Dream groaned in frustration before taking a deep breath to all himself.

There, in the distance, stood Wilbur at his height of 6'5. He probably saw him. Anyone would freak out if they saw their enemy, covered in blood that obviously wasn't theirs coming at them with haste. Dream took another breath when to try and not attack him then and there from frustration. "why are you here?" Wilbur scrawled, "none of your business, Dream. Why are you covered in blood?" his tone was somewhat mocking, anger and venom dripped from his tongue. But dream heard the slight fear in his tone.

"None of your business, Wilbur." he answered in the same tone of annoyance. 

_should have let me take control, I could have gotten rid of him for you. And to think I was being nice._

Dream would answer back or at least roll his eyes at Daione's statement but he was stuck in a staring contest with Wilbur. Neither of the two blinked, looked away, or even moved

_I can say anything I want now...poke his eye Dream, poke that bastards eye he wants what's mine, poke his goddamn eye cut his head off he wants whats mine he wants what's mine whats mine Clay, he wants what mine, mine_

**_you know I can always just...think, right? and no, I'm not hurting him unless necessary._ **

_...I-_

**_I want to have my fun first, alright? you can have yours when I'm done_ **

_when will you be done then?_

**_I don't know_ **

_... sure, just let me be the one to kill him off._

**_like I have a choice_ **

The air became thick as if time itself slowed down. "You fucking reek of blood, where is it from Dream?" the blonde scrunched his nose, blinking when he felt the pain from it being broken. He really needs to chug a few healing potions to make sure his nose doesn't stay deformed once it heals. "why the hell should I tell you?" 

Wilbur straightened his back, Dream saw a few of his smaller feathers blow away with the wind. "because there is a village nearby and they are never this quiet at this time. What the hell did you do?" Dream grinned when he saw horror and realization sink in on Wilburs eyes. "first of all, it's 5 am, second, simple. I killed them. It's not that hard to figure out." He saw the brunet shake in anger. He probably knew someone there. "YOU- you fucking bastard, there were kids there!" he grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie, leaning forward to scram in his face, well, mask.

"I know." "Dream you're fucking sick." the American laughed, Wilbur was quick to widen his eyes when he heard the laughter. "You say I'm sick? Please, I already know that. But what are you going to do, go cry to Sally?" Wilbur seemed to realize what he meant and ran off in the direction of the village, he saw corpses dragged to be close to each other.

He desperately looked for the water nymph, his face was wet with tears as he didn't manage to find her. "you, you son of a bitch-" "let's not bring my mom into this, you don't even know her, yeah?" Wilbur ignored the teasing question and started walking over to him. "Where-" Drem raised his arms, feeling too much pain to actually fight the taller. "okay, okay, chill. She's dead, like the rest. No, I won't tell you where the body is, I myself don't really know," Wilbur reached for the sword in his belt. 

"However, however! I know where something else is, or, well, someone else is." the words seemed to catch the man's attention, relaxing his grip on the sword handle. "You can check her house and I'll be on my merry way, deal?" he soon smiled under the ask, nd in a much calmer and amused tone said, "deal." The brown hired and made his way to the dead woman's house, rushing more and more the longer he walked.

_Great, now we have to come back in order to clean up._

Dream sighed, whispering breathlessly. "Better a bit more work than dead."


End file.
